The First Step
by Beregond5
Summary: G1. Third story in the Patient H-18 series. After a very bad first mission, Prowl gives Bluestreak an important piece of advice.


"Is that all?"

Prowl only nodded at Optimus Prime's question, but it was enough answer for the Autobot leader.

"I understand. Thank you, Prowl."

To the tactician, that meant only one thing. Optimus Prime wanted to be left alone for a while, so that he could think about what Prowl had just reported to him. That was why Prowl bowed his head in acquiescence and walked out.

It was the least he could do under the circumstances.

"That bad, huh?"

Prowl sighed and shut his optics for a brief, weary moment. He didn't bother to look at Jazz when he opened them again. He just stared ahead.

"You have no idea," was all he said.

Jazz shook his head and patted Prowl's shoulder.

"Come on. We can talk about it over some energon. What do you say?"

Prowl actually smiled, albeit wanly. His friend was always ready to offer a listening audio receptor, and this time wasn't going to be an exception either.

But it had to wait.

"Not right now, Jazz. There's something I need to take care of first. Have you seen Bluestreak?"

Jazz scratched his chin as he tried to remember. "Last time I saw him, he was outside the repair-bay."

Prowl wasn't surprised in the least.

"All right. Thanks."

But just as he was about to head to the repair-bay, Jazz's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Prowl? Go easy on the kid. He seemed to be in pretty bad shape, if you know what I mean."

"I do," Prowl replied reassuringly. "I'll see you in the common room."

And with that, the tactician walked away.

-----------------

Prowl found Bluestreak outside the repair-bay, just as Jazz had told him. And as he watched the young mech from a distance, Prowl had to admit that the saboteur was right. Bluestreak was sitting on a chair close to the wall, his shoulders slumped forward and his head bowed, looking utterly miserable.

That was an image only too familiar. Prowl had seen it many times before in the past.

He approached the gunner, but Bluestreak didn't give any indication that he had noticed Prowl's presence. He didn't even seem to acknowledge him when Prowl sat on another chair right next to the young mech.

"What's the matter?"

Prowl's question was soft, almost gentle. Nevertheless, it still had the power to make Bluestreak turn around and look at the tactician, his optics reflecting his sadness – and his guilt.

"Ratchet hasn't come out yet."

Prowl nodded his understanding. "Ironhide's wounds were quite bad." However, that distressed Bluestreak further, so Prowl added: "Be at ease. Ratchet will fix him."

"Yeah…" Bluestreak whispered, wishing to trust Prowl on this. He even smiled a bit, but the smile didn't last long. At the next moment, the gunner sighed and leaned forward, hiding his face in his hands.

"I really made a mess out of things out there, didn't I?"

Prowl looked at Bluestreak in compassion. It was just like the young one to take the blame for something that wasn't in his hands.

"The whole mission went awry from the start. There was nothing you could have done to change that."

"But I _froze_, Prowl!" Bluestreak cried exasperatingly. "We were completely surrounded by Decepticons and all I did was stare at them, my gun still in my hands!"

"That could have happened to anybody, especially on their first mission," Prowl reasoned in a calm tone.

"But it happened to _me_," the gunner answered. "I just… I just don't get it. They destroyed so much… and killed so many… They're my enemies and yet I can't fight them?!" He huffed and let his hands drop at his sides in defeat. "It was supposed to be easy."

Prowl now knew that _that _wouldn't do.

"Bluestreak, look at me."

The gunner complied.

"Fighting isn't supposed to be easy."

"But--" Bluestreak started.

"Listen to me," Prowl interrupted firmly, but not unkindly. Once Bluestreak closed his mouth, the tactician continued. "Do you remember how we first met?"

Bluestreak nodded. "You got blasted by that blue mech back in the Neutral Zone. And he almost finished you off."

"But you stopped him," Prowl said. "And do you remember that… talk…I had with Ratchet while I was injured?"

"Primus, how could I forget?" Bluestreak answered, actually chuckling at the memory. "I was ready to get between you two in case you jumped at each other's throats!"

"Yes, you were. And what made you finally fire at Astrotrain today?"

The gunner sobered, the memory obviously paining him. "He… he was killing Ironhide. I didn't want that."

"That's right," Prowl said. "And _that's _what makes fighting easy. Do you understand?"

It didn't seem like Bluestreak did at first. At the next moment though, his optics widened in realisation.

"I fight to protect my friends."

Prowl smiled inwardly at Bluestreak's answer. The lesson was learned.

"Exactly." He stood up to leave, but he decided he had to say one last thing.

"By the way, congratulations."

Bluestreak blinked in puzzlement. "For what?"

Prowl regarded the gunner with a tinge of pride. "You've just made your first step as an Autobot."

Though the tactician's lip components tugged to a _visible _smile at Bluestreak's face of surprise, he didn't stay to hear the young one's small, hesitant: 'Thank you'. He just walked down the corridor, toward the common room. It didn't take him long to get there, or even spot Jazz amid all the mechs that were already there.

"Hey," Jazz said, seeing the tactician approaching him. "Everythin' taken care of?"

Prowl sat down, nodding as he did so.

"Everything," he echoed. And with that, he picked the small energon-filled cube Jazz had saved for him.

Jazz smiled.

**The End**


End file.
